"VERE”

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16471, 6 July 1921, Page 2

"VERE”

OUR SERIAL*

By

L G. MOBERLY.

CHAPTER XVlll.—Continued. Aliss Fortescue gathered up the books and followed Airs Grey son into the drawing-room, where the window was religiously snut, and the room srnclt stuffy and unaired. “ I. have had an invitation to go and visit an old friend,” Mrs Greys on began, when she was installed in"her special arm-chair with her special rug wrapped round her knees. “1 am not very fond of staying in country housed. They are so excessively draughty and nobody ever dreams of shutting doors or windows as they ought to be shut. But Airs Bedwvn is an old friend and she has taken a house at Stramsley and begs me to go and see her. I had made quite different plans, but she has a charming house and one cannot refuse an old friend.” Airs Grey son sighed, and the nurse reflected wickedly, “ And one docs not want to refuse free, comfortable board and lodging.” “ So .that I have decided to. make an effort to go,” her employer continued. “I must, of course, make it clear to her that I cannot accept her invitation unless J. can take you with me. I should not dare to go into the wilds of the country without a nurse. I never know when J may have one of my attacks.” “ When do you think of going to Stramsley P ” “ In about a fortnight, and Airs Bedwyn asks me to spend six weeks there. But unless I can have you too, I shall not go. 1 could not possibly travel alone, nor am I fit to- be without constant. attention.” During Airs Groyson’s explanations, Miss Fortescue had remained standing close to the big round table which occupied the centre of the apartment. She now moved forward a little, and there was o gleam of humour in her blue eyes as they looked down into her employer’s fractious face. “ I had been thinking this morning that you do not really need me anymore.” “Not need you?” Airs Greyson almost screamed in as far as any- ono so plaintive and lackadaisical could bo said to scream. “I could not possibly be left, alone, it is out of the question. I don't know wbat you are dreaming about.” “I sometimes fancy*, you would like a change of person about you.” was the quiet reply, “ I am very often quite unable to please you or do things as you like them done.” ” Now Miss Fortescue,” Mrs Greyson exclaimed, shutting her eyes wearily, ‘*l do hope you are not one of those foolish people who take offence at nothing, and imagine all sorts of affronts which are never intended.” “ 1 am not very imaginative along those lines,” was the answer, and a taint smile crossed the speaker’s face, “hut you will admit that lately yon have found fault with me very often.” “Only when necessary,” Airs Greyson retorted stiffl.v, and T trust you won’t go off in a huff just because 1 have been obliged to mention little things I like done differently.” ” Not in a huff,” Airs Fortescue almost laughed, “ but sometimes, and for everybody concerned, a change is advisable. arid if I am no longer quite what suits you, it is better ior me to go.” “ Cruel—cruel,” Airs Greyson murmured, flapping a flimsy handkerchief in the air. and thou applying it to her eyes. “Cannot you have patience with i poor sufferer who has had so much to endure, so much trouble, so much pain?” And she punctuated her sentence with most effective sobs. “T could not do without you now.” she went on tearfully, “ you know' all my waye. 1 always thought you understood me so perfectly. I —l should fed lost without you,” and at this doleful thought she relapsed into the hysterical weeping which tried her nurse’s: patience and kindnes.3 of heart iutolerably. “ And I’m sure if I ever do say anything'to annoy vou l am sorry for it afterwards,” she sobbed out. “nobody could be more anxious than I am to make people happy, and to save trouble.” As -c would have been quite imposd,l*» to shake this pleasing belief, Miss Fortescue swallowed the statement in sik-nre, and Airs Groyson’s sad voice ?or»tinned : “Of course if the country would bore y> .u. < v jf you feci unequal to watching over uic and taking care of mo, I will say no r < i c.” “ Aleaninw that she will say an enormous amount more ” thought her 'istener. but aloud she onlv said in that gentle voice which seldom failed to soothe her patient: “If vou would reallv like to keep mo I am quite readv to stav. or to go with you to Stramsley.” she said. “ Vou must not think I am impatient.' 1 £ • Ah! I know just what it is. You want varietv. One poor old woman nails upon you. I can ouite understand-- ” and so on, and so on, and so on—ad infinitum, ad nauseam—in an endless circle until the unfortunate nurse would fain erv out for mercy. But* experience had taught her that when once the torrent was set going nothing could be done or said to atom the torrent. She could only wait until the force of the stream had expended itself, and when Airs Grevpon had finally rim down she spoke again. “You must tell me exactlv what you want to arrange about Stramslev ind justi what arrangements you vou id like me to make. From all I have ever heard, it is a beautiful neighbourhood, and the air is splendid. It will do you good.” “ I need it.” came the gloomy response. “ Upsets* like to-day’s are terribly had for me. I can’t stand them, and I’m sure I only hope vou will never give me such a dreadful time again.’’ To avert a fresh pouring out of the torrent Aliss Fortescue steered the conversation awav from dangerous topics, and she was congratulating lierselt upon having warded off a fresh outburst when the Parlourmaid announced “ Aliss Somers.’ To say th..t Aliss Somers was Miss Fortescue’s pet aversion is. perhaps, to use unduly strong language, for the tall nurse with the blue eyes fought valiantly with herself in the matter of “ pet aversions.*’ and tried, no less valiantly, to realise a best even, iu the most unpromising human beings : lmt Aliss Somers, it must be owned, put a severe strain upon her kind In tolerance. After, effusively kissing Airs Greyson, she greeted the nurse with a patronising nod. “ 1 believe my niece and her strange friend mado rather friends with you.” she said. “ that girl who lost her memory and had two names.” “ I liked your niece and her friend so much.” Miss Fortescue answered in her pretty, gracious way. “ thev struck me as being such exceptional girl 6, and so charming.” “Oh! thev struck you in that way, did they?” Miss Somers snorted. “Well—-I’m sure I’m glad they did. Though I am surprised, too. My niece lias far too much assurance for a girl of her “age, and far too much knowledge of the world. When 1 was young I was entirely innocent and ignorant.” “ And you think that a good plan for girls, nowadays, girls who have to go about the world alone?” “ Go about fiddlesticks.” Aliss Somers retorted rudely. “Girls have no business to be going about alone. Tliev ought to be content to stay quietly at home with, their mothers as we were. But l might talk myself black in the face before anvbodv would listen to my opinion,” As Miss For

tescue thought this was highlv probable. she refrained from reply, and ATiss Somers went on acidly. “'As vou knew the girl of the memory—you may ho interested to bear she is going to be married. The best way out of the difficulty. T should sav. If she's so uncertain about her own name she may as well take somebody elsc’s. Nice thing if she turns out to be married already,” and Aliss Somers gave vent to another prodigious snort which seemed to imply that she rather hoped such an unpleasant contingency might take place. “ Who is Aliss Tilney going to marry?” Aliss Fortescue asked. “You remember she was told her name bv her old school mistress, who met her here bv chance.’’ “ I remember some stor*- of a meeting on the cliff. It all seems to me very melodramatic and unusual,” Miss Somers sniffed, and Mrs Greyson nodded her head, as though to express agreement . with her friend. “Anyhow —whatever the «drFs real name is she is going to marrv her guardian.’’ “Her guardian?” Aliss Fortescue*s voice Founded euriouslv feint. “ Do you mean Air Trenton?”

“ Yes— Mr Trenton. He is one of the people my sister and her husband go wild about. I met him once at their house aiitl saw nothing so verv remarkable in him. He is to marry the nameless

•• Sh* is verv lovelv.” Aliss Fortescue. said, stilt in that" fame taint, voice and n ith a iifelessness of tone which even the se!f-abw,rbed Mrs Greyson noticed. j “ Aren’t you feeling well? she sum sharply. “ Your voice sounds a? dieaway as if something was the matter. T suppose it doesn't matter to you who this girl is going to marry, even though you did take mu h a violent fancy to her.” Tlxe nurse s fare A va . s very white, there was a strained look in her eyes; with a little nervous gesture she clasped and unclasped hci No—oh I no.*’ she -aid hurriedlv. “of course it- is no concern of mine who Aliss Tilner marries. I—' only interested in bearing about it. because —because— — . “Because you took one ot those violent fancies some women do take towards one another. Airs Greyson said with sarcasm, nod a smile flitted over her nurse’s white face. . “Aliss Tilney is quite a young girl, young enough to he my daughter, she said, “ I thought her very lot cly. very charming—and ” she hesitated.' “ l should imagine the man who marries her will be a very happy man if ” she spoke almost under her breath. “ if he is not too old ior her. “ I don’t suppose vou are any judge of Air Trenton's age. never having seen him.” Aiks Somers said dryly. “ though as a matter ot fact he must be twentv rears and more older than the girl.' However, men were always fools, and are always likely to be. flio ended sweepingly. missing on at once to a subject of local interest. In this she and* Airs Greyson soon became immersed. and Aliss Fortescue leaving the room softly, stole upstairs, her face very white and drawn, the tense expression of strain still in her eyes- “ Thank God wc are soon going nw;;> from here.” she said under her breath when she waa alone in her own room, “ whatever and V.lvcr*ernr .Stramsley is. it will be a change from this place, and. perhaps there- nothing will oyer happen to remind me again- to remind me again of what I want to forget !

CHAPTER XIX. AT STfIAMF'I.b.V. “ Young Buruand cubed on me today, Yere. Jte is a very persistent, and very charming person, tie pointed out to me with irresistible logic dial lie positively must finish your portrait. Raymond looked down at liis betrothed with kindly laughing eyes, but only I3abs, seated in the corner ot the old schoolroom, only shrewd kite Ba bs noticed how at 1 lie word- the colour flew over Vorc’s face. “Air Burnaud seemed io tlr.uk 1 hud nothing to do but po>v for him. ' Yere answered, speaking lightly, with an effort of which only Bab> was conscious, “ when he dragged me off to lu’s studio the other day, ho obv’ouply thought I could sit whenever* he wished.” “ He has set liis. heart on this picture. and one doesn’t want to disappoint him. 1 sympathise with an artist who has a great idea, seething in his brain.” It was Raymond who spoke. “ "When he to me Yesterday he was full of a project he lias suddenly evolved.” “ A project ?” A cre’s head was bent rather low over the needlework in her hand, and Babs put. in '-•uiekly : “What sort of nrojeet? Air Burnancl is Peter Pan rush enough to have nnv number of weird : rhemes. I Id liis Peter Pannishnesci. she added- "il is a good kind.” “He implored mo well I might almost sav he commanded me.’’ Raymond laughed, “ to lot him finish A'ere* s oortrait. And he proposes that if the sittings cannot be managed here A'ere should go to Stramslev for them.” “ To Stramsley?” A'ere echoed, looking up with a startled glance. “ Aly on n proposition was that the picture should wait until after our wedding.” Raymond’s eyes met Vcre’s. and she suddenly bent over her* work again with heightened colour. “ I thought you were too busy now ; hut Buruand was very insistent—very insistent.’’ lie repeated. “ he- is the sort Of chap who gets thoroughly obsessed with an idea, and the idea of painting you has become an obsession.” * “ AVhv shouldn’t he paint the pic ture if he is so keen about it?” Bubs questioned. “ wouldn’t it be possible for A'ere to go to Stramsley if Air Buruand can’t do the* portrait in London P ’ ’

“ Ho only had the studio here for a mouth, and bis time is just up. It seems that he would l ave liked A'ere to sit several times after the dav lie met her. But you were too busy, was that it. dear?”

“ Yea—much too busy.” There was a flustered note in A'cre’a voice. ** I really think; 1 mean—J reallv don’t think I can go to Stramsley to sit. How ran I. when there is so much to do and ”

“You could perfectly well spare n week.” Baba interrupted with, decision, “ and if the picture is as important as Mr Buruand says, it seems a shame not to let him finish it. I remember at tbo verv beginning he want ed to do it at Stramsley because of having the wood there and painting it as a background for A'ere. It would be too bad not to let him paint his masterpiece. ”

-‘That was preciselv the wav he put it to me, • Itaymond exclaimed. “ he reallv quite worked upon my feelings, telling me this picture was to make his reputation, and be the crowning point of his career. 1 think, mv dear we shall have io make an effort to fall in with his wishes, if be can manage to ,«o with only a week's sittings." And if we can find somewhere to ,?,l“ fetramstey, ’ Yere hesitated. Ao difficulty about that. There's an fnil where you could quite well put ■ and } f Mrs Carstairs could go dow n eonld , .you for a week, nothing could be easier. ’

IS o. nothing could he. easier ” Vere repeated mechanically, and once more Babs s shrewa eyes looked ut her. and Habs s clear voice echoed her merhani cal phrase : “ Nothiup- could be easier? AVhv of course nothing could be easier. It> a splendid plan and it would be ever many thousand pities if Mr Burnaud clidn t have a proper chance of doing lus picture. I shall persuade Alummv to let me go to Stramsley. too!” Airs Carstairs proved verv amenable to persuasion, when later the girls discussed the plan with her. all the more so that the date at which Raymond had decided that the-*- should go there, coincided with the date Hilda had fixed for her “ At Home.” (To be continued )